


To Every Action...

by disjointed_scribblings



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Friendship, Humor, Repairing Relationships, Siblings, protective older sister, snarkiness warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disjointed_scribblings/pseuds/disjointed_scribblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe the actions were the problem here.  Maybe if she stopped doing actions, she'd stop getting equal and opposite reactions.  Maybe she should have sat at home with a camera and just waited for Darcy to be dropped in her lap like a take-out box of Chinese.  Maybe she should have had a hobby that could've resulted in a job offer and then been serendipitously parlayed into a business."  </p><p>Caroline Lee reflects on her life, and unexpectedly bonds with Lizzie Bennet over judging people on reality TV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Every Action...

Caroline tilted her glass and watched the surface of the clear liquid keep parallel to the table.  The laws of physics, she thought -- or gravity.  Was gravity part of the laws of physics, or was it just a force?  Forces were governed by the laws of physics -- or, no.  It was objects.  Forces acted upon objects and the actions were governed by the laws of physics.   _To every action, there is always an equal and opposite reaction_.  Law.  Newton.  Number three.  She should know.  

Everything about her life had been equal and opposite reaction lately.  Action: Tell Bing not to make hasty real estate decisions.  Reaction: Bing buys a house in a stupid town.  Action: Separate Bing from a woman who is clearly a bad influence.  Reaction: Bing has a quarter-life crisis.  Action: Tell Bing to man up, take a nice vacation and get through it.  Reaction: Bing drops out of med school and moves across the country with said Bad Influence.  Action: Strike up flirtation with cute, smart, witty life-long friend.  Reaction:  Friend falls for someone completely unsuitable, and also rude.  Action: Foster Lizzie Bennet's already violent dislike of Darcy.  Reaction: Lizzie falls for him.  Action: Invest in Lizzie's company so she can assuage her guilt and pretend that whole year never happened.  Reaction… 

Well, the reaction she'd been looking for when she'd funnelled some money into Lizzie's recent start-up had definitely not included Lizzie and Darcy taking it as a peace offering and inviting her over for dinner and cocktails.  

Maybe the actions were the problem here.  Maybe if she stopped doing actions, she'd stop getting equal and opposite reactions.  Maybe she should have sat at home with a camera and just waited for Darcy to be dropped in her lap like a take-out box of Chinese.  Maybe she should have had a hobby that could have resulted in a job offer and then been serendipitously parlayed into a business.  

"How's the martini?" Lizzie asked, and Caroline realized that she'd been silently staring at her glass for at least five minutes.  

"Oh, just divine.  Darcy has always made the best martinis."  Though he seemed to have forgotten that she preferred hers dirty.  She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a nervous fidget and wondered how many courses she could make it through without stabbing someone with an oyster fork.  The evening had to have been Lizzie's idea.  Darcy would never have suggested this mockery of the times they'd shared as friends.  

From the way Lizzie looked at her, it seemed the other woman had said something else and was awaiting a response.  Caroline pulled out her best supercilious smile and raised an eyebrow -- the best way, she'd found, to convince someone she was listening to them but thought their question beneath answering.  Lizzie quailed.  

"I mean -- that is -- I really don't understand the interest you have in my company."  

Ah, that was her question.  "It's not about interest, Lizzie Bennet.  You wouldn't understand."  

Most young entrepreneurs would leave it at that, and let Caroline's reasons remain her own.  But oh, no, not Lizzie Bennet!  "Try me," was Lizzie Bennet's response.  

To make time, Caroline sighed and took a sip of martini, letting the liquid sit on her tongue a moment before swallowing.  It  _was_  quite good, even without the olive brine.  Courtesy of the well-stocked Darcy liquor cabinet, she assumed.  

"Venture capitalism," she said eventually, "is about knowing what's going to grow and what's going to catch on, and making sure you get a piece of that pie while it's still small.  Searching for opportunities and plucking out the ones that will pan out.  Your start-up is… intriguing.  Obviously there's something compelling about your brand, or your videos wouldn't have enjoyed such incredible success.  My firm has a fund set aside specifically for start-ups in communication and technology, and you bring something novel, along with a little je-ne-sais-quoi, and proven social media power.  That's exactly the kind of thing we're looking for, and I felt honour-bound to point you out to our partners."  

There.  That sounded nice and disinterested.  And it was even true.  

"So -- it's not because you believed in me?  Because you wanted to show me your support?"  

Ah, idealism.  How… sickening.  "It was a business decision, Lizzie Bennet."  Caroline shook her hair over her shoulder again.  "It would be incredibly naïve of me to believe that emotions or agenda never influence business decisions.  But here, we're talking about opportunities.  Besides, I don't make final decisions in cases like these.  I'm only an associate.  I simply brought your company to the attention of my superiors."  

"But you invested some of your own money separately from the firm," Lizzie pointed out, eyes big and serious.  

Caroline laughed.  Oh God, why had she agreed to come in the first place?  She should have told them straight from the beginning she wasn't interested in rekindling an acquaintanceship.  "Oh, Lizzie Bennet.  I'm sorry if you thought that meant something.  I often do that if I think something is going to be a good bet.  My instincts are never wrong in this industry."  Just in her personal life.  

Before Lizzie could respond, Darcy bustled in with the appetizers.  Thank.  God.  This was already the most painful evening of her life, and she'd only been here half an hour.  And her martini was half-finished already.  When had that happened?  Distractedly, she smoothed a hand over her hair.  

"Have you heard from Catherine lately?" Darcy asked, and Caroline felt her tension recede a little.  

They shared small-talk about business and mutual acquaintances until Darcy headed back into the kitchen to check on the quinoa.  Then Lizzie leaned forward to grasp Caroline's hand and said, "Listen.  I know that Jane told you she's forgiven you.  Darcy would never say it, but I think he's there too, and so am I.  I really hope we can let bygones be bygones.  Darcy and Bing have been talking again, so I'm really hopeful that you can repair your relationship with your brother, too."  

Caroline pulled free from the uncomfortable touch.  "I fail to see how that is any of your business, Lizzie Bennet," she said loftily.  Maybe Lizzie and Darcy had managed to simultaneously realize that they were mistreating their younger sisters, but not all sibling relationships were easily fixed.  

All the same, she wondered how Bing would react if she called him up and said that she hadn't done anything worse to him than what Darcy had done to Gigi.  

* * *

Dinner conversation stayed far away from any dangerous territory, which meant they'd run out of things to say before dessert.  While Darcy headed to the kitchen to make the coffee, Lizzie led Caroline into the living room.  No matter how hard she listened, Caroline could not detect the sound of a coffee grinder.  Did they buy their beans pre-ground?  She shuddered.  How Darcy's tastes had been bastardized.  

When Caroline responded to her next conversational overture with a raised eyebrow, Lizzie muttered, "We might as well turn on the TV," leading Caroline to believe she'd never attended a  _real_  dinner party before.  And when had Darcy gotten a satellite dish?  He absolutely decried most television content.  Caroline blamed Lizzie for the change.  

Caroline had already resolved not to enjoy whatever program Lizzie chose.  She even thought she might pick up last month's Time magazine from the side table and flip through it, to make a point of her disinterest.  But she found she couldn't tear her eyes away from the monstrosity of wedding dress that suddenly filled the screen.  

"That," she said flatly, "is horrific."  

"I didn't even know you could  _fit_  that many diamonds on one dress."  Lizzie sounded almost awed, but her expression was pure disgust.  Transfixed disgust, it was true.  But then, Caroline was experiencing the same inability to look away that she felt when confronted with a car accident.  

"Oh, I can't imagine they're real diamonds.  Anyone who could afford that many diamonds could hire a better designer.  And I don't know if I'd call that a dress so much as an unfortunate explosion of tulle."  

Lizzie laughed and said something else, but Caroline was too horrified by the next dress to pay any attention.  "Oh, good  _God_.  It's even bigger!"  

"She looks like a torso poking out of an enormous cotton ball," said Lizzie, and it was so true that Caroline had to laugh.  "I mean, seriously, what is she even thinking?  Does she think it looks good on her?"  

"Maybe she's under the mistaken impression that it resembles a ball gown.  I think I -- are those  _feathers_?"  

"Oh my God.  They totally are!  She has a feathered train!"  

"What designer, what seamstress, allowed that tasteless…  _thing_  to be created?"  

And so it went on.  By the time Darcy brought out the coffee and cake, they had somehow wound up sitting side by side on the big couch, feet up on the coffee table, cutting each other off in their running commentary of the terrible dresses and even worse people on the show.  

"Having fun, ladies?" Darcy asked, in a voice that hovered on the sarcastic.  

Caroline was surprised to discover that she actually was.  As she and Lizzie dug into their gluten-free vegan cheesecake and continued to mock the fashion sense of the brides-to-be, she added a line to her earlier reckoning.  

Action: Go to dinner being intentionally unpleasant.  Reaction: Actually have a good time.  

Well, it was a start.  

* * *

It became a tradition, of a sort.  Whenever Caroline was in San Francisco, she and Lizzie would marathon wedding shows and provide snarky commentary.  Darcy would hide out in his study, with occasional trips to the kitchen to whip up another pitcher of margaritas.  He had the best sarcastic quips when he delivered them to the living room.  At the end of the evening, they played drunk Cards Against Humanity and laughed about what horrible people they were and how glad they were that their kinder, gentler siblings weren't playing.  

The whole thing was… therapeutic.  And seeing Darcy laugh so much made Caroline realize that she would never have been right for him.  In the years she'd known him, she hadn't been able to bring out this side of him, and it had taken Lizzie just a few short months.  

One fall evening, when the television flickered to commercial after a particularly ghastly Halloween-themed wedding, Lizzie set down her drink and said, "You know, you're going to have to make up with Bing sometime.  When William and I get married we're going to want both of you in the wedding party."  

To cover her discomposure at the sudden change in topic, Caroline raised an eyebrow.  "And is this event… imminent?"  

"Oh, knock it off.  You know it's not going to happen anytime soon.  Just all these wedding shows have made me think of it.  I now have incredibly long lists of things I  _don't_  want at my wedding.  But one thing I do want is you as a bridesmaid."  

How sentimental.  She'd never do it.  "I can't fathom why."  

"Don't be such a -- a -- whatever.  You know you've become one of my closest friends lately.  And Darcy has always valued your friendship."  

She had?  He did?  

"But Darcy will want Bing as his best man," Lizzie continued, looking straight at Caroline.  "And Jane is definitely going to be my maid of honour, so you'll have to deal with them.  I don't know who else Darcy will want, other than Fitz.  Gigi you shouldn't have a problem with.  Lydia… she'll probably stay out of your way.  But you're going to have to at least make nice with Charlotte -- "

"Oh, dear Lord.  You're not going to make me stand next to  _her_ , are you?"  

Hypothetically.  They were still talking in hypotheticals, right?  

"I know you don't get along, but you have so much in common!"  

"Like what?"  Caroline had to admire Charlotte's business acumen, not to mention the way she'd carefully ingratiated herself with Catherine De Burgh -- but it was so annoying to be in competition for the spot as Catherine's Top Protégée.  Caroline still had the edge, if only because she was a venture capitalist herself.  But Charlotte's complete turnaround of Collins & Collins had garnered her a hefty advancement.  

"Hmm, let me see.  Stubborn… think you always know best… always go after what you want… a bit manipulative… incredibly successful… she's just nicer about it than you are.  More subtle."  

And Charlotte was usually right when she thought she knew best, unlike Caroline.   

"She has to be more subtle than I am.  She's poor.  I can just intimidate people with my staggering wealth and flawless hair."  

Charlotte Lu: younger, nicer, middle-class, and therefore more sympathetic and relatable version of Caroline Lee.  Now there was a thought.  Caroline downed her drink.  

Lizzie laughed.  "Okay, we can deal with Charlotte later.  Bing is the real issue here.  I know you haven't talked in, what, six months?"  

"We're in communication."  Brief emails about their parents' well-being and mutual business interests.  It still counted.  

"Look, I know it's hard to admit that you've treated a sibling badly.  That you let your own prejudices blind you to who they are -- "

"We're not talking about you, here, Lizzie Bennet.  And for God's sake, let's not get  _mawkish_."  Caroline tucker her hair behind her ear and wondered where Darcy was with the drink refills.  "My situation is entirely different from yours."  

Lizzie's expression was skeptical.  "I'm just saying.  If you ever need to talk about it, I can relate.  So can Darcy, for that matter.  Maybe we should start an 'Overbearing Siblings Club'."  

"Funny," Caroline said, and pointedly turned back to the television.  

But a few days later, alone in her office, she found that her mind just wouldn't let that conversation go.  Frustrated, she slammed shut her laptop and went to the window.  

Her policy of "don't do an action, don't get an equal and opposite reaction" had worked well where Darcy was concerned, but not so much with Bing.  Then again, her brother was literally the kindest and most well-meaning person in the world.  He hadn't done anything wrong; no way would he be the one to apologize.  Quitting med school was probably the only thing in his life he had ever done completely and wholly for himself.  

Maybe that was her problem.  She was too self-serving -- and she wasn't even subtle about it, like Charlotte Lu.  No, Caroline Lee was a raging, self-centred bitch -- ask anyone.  The actions weren't the problem.  It was that the motives for her actions were always in her own self-interest.    

Pulling her phone from her jacket pocket, she started typing out a message.  

 

_Bing --_

_Look, I'm sorry about the way I've been acting lately.  I hope you know I've only ever had your best interests at heart.  I'm still not convinced that moving to New York and becoming some kind of glorified fundraiser is in your best interests, but I'm willing to acknowledge that med school probably wasn't either._

_You've always had a habit of just going along with the flow, even when it was headed places where you didn't want to be.  I'll admit, I've massaged situations in the past to redirect that flow when I thought it was best for you.  I'm your big sister.  I never want to see you get hurt, and I'm not going to apologize for that sentiment.  I suppose I was so used to that state of affairs that I couldn't accept it when you removed yourself from a situation that you didn't like, when I had no problem with it.  And I'm sorry about that._

_I still think you're just going with the flow.  Helping people sounds nice, but you need a more specific plan if you want to build your career, your life around something.  I don't want to see you hit fifty and have some kind of mid-life crisis that you've spent all your time floundering around without having some kind of accomplishment you can point at.  Once you decide what you want, you can be sure I will do everything in my power to make sure you're successful at it.  Even if what you want is to be a stay-at-home dad who dedicates his free time to volunteering.  If that's what you want, you'll be the best dad who has ever existed on this planet, bar none.  I'll make sure of it.  You just need to have something tangible, I don't care what it is._

_Now, Jane.  I will admit I was wrong about her.  The fact that her sister was sharing personal details of myself, my brother, and my friend on the internet was a big mark against her.  The fact that her family was bankrupt, she was perpetually in debt, and she and her sister happened to cozy up to two wealthy men was another.  The final nail in the coffin is that I was convinced she was leading you on.  When I saw you together, when I talked to you or saw her on her sister's videos, it always seemed to me that you were the one who was most invested._

_I'm not going to apologize for wanting to keep my brother from being taken advantage of by an unscrupulous gold-digger.  However, I apologize for using deception to separate you and keep you apart, rather than coming to you with my concerns.  Maybe a few good conversations could have cleared them up.  I deeply regret having hurt both of you._

_I don't expect a response.  I just wanted you to understand._

_Caroline_

 

With her finger hovering over the send button, Caroline looked out over LA and felt… peaceful?  It had been cathartic just to get the words out.  The idea that Bing might read them and understand her better soothed the ragged edges of her love for her family.  She didn't think he'd respond.  He didn't need to.  He would read it, though -- she knew him well enough to know that.  And it was all she needed.  

Optimistic.  That was how she felt.  Optimistic.  

Caroline hit send.  

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, Caroline. Well, it's a start? 
> 
> First fic on ao3 whoooooo!


End file.
